


On Your Way

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, M/M, Teacher Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5614561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco waits for Harry to return from an Auror mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/gifts).



> Today is my girlfriend 's birthday! This is not what I had planned to write for you, but honey, I'm so glad to have gotten the chance to write this. I know we both love this song, and it just so clearly spoke out this story to me. I hope you like it. You are wonderful, wonderful. Do you know that? I hope you have the best year of your life. ♥
> 
> Title and inspiration come from Nowhere Warm by Kate Havnevik, which is just so beautiful (everybody should listen!), and I've also included all the lyrics at the end because I was really inspired by the whole of it rather than just one or two lines.

"Protection spells," Draco snapped at his students. He swished a charm, and the mats they'd been using stacked themselves against the wall. "Choose one and give me a foot of parchment. Be ready to demonstrate it on Monday." He strode through the room and out the door to a myriad of groans.

Ordinarily, he would have smiled, but he just folded his hands within his robes and stalked out into the hall, frown firmly affixed.

Winter was coming on, and a chill bit into the castle, leaving icy veins on windows and drafts sweeping through the cracks in the stone. It was a relief to reach his quarters and find the hearth already blazing, even if the person who'd dismantled his locking charms was not the one he wished.

"Granger." Draco removed his thick robes and flung them in the direction of the robe rack. "Lovely to see you. I'll be updating my wards accordingly."

"Is that his influence?" Granger, tea already in hand – Draco's tea, probably his finest – gestured vaguely toward his robe, pooled on the floor.

Draco huffed and sent a spell at it, hanging it neatly from a hook. "Happy?" He strode into the room, his back already protesting having demonstrated how to throw an _Aguamenti_ in order to reach far away targets.

"Tea?" Granger went to pour before he replied.

"Always." Draco sat heavily in his favoured armchair and leaned his head back a moment.

"Milk, yes?"

"A smidge."

Granger's lips twitched.

"Right, as though you don't measure your sugar to the gram."

Granger shrugged, handing him the cup. "Not so much. Not anymore." She blushed prettily. "I have my own bad influence."

"Bad, hmm?" Draco wrapped his hands around the hot porcelain and breathed in the steam.

"In the best of ways." A smirk lit Granger's eyes where Draco noticed crinkles of lines had begun to appear. 

"So, you think he's a bad influence on me, then? That's a new one."

Granger ignored the question, as she had a habit of doing when she felt she had one better. "Have you heard anything?"

So, they were on to _that_. Draco sighed. Just like that he felt cold again. "No. I haven't. No more than the company line, that is."

Every evening, usually after dinner and before bedtime, he'd receive the customary and pre-written Ministry missive that all was well. Draco knew it was practically meaningless. All it truly meant was that Harry hadn't outright died. He could be anywhere, doing anything, experiencing any manner or collection of dangers, and the Ministry would send that same missive so long as there was nothing definitive to report. It did nearly nothing to ease Draco's mind. 

Nearly. 

He checked his watch. It should arrive in about an hour, perhaps two. At least then the pressure that built up in him over the course of the day could ease slightly. Any news was somehow good news, even if it breezed through the empty hole inside him, and, moments after the relief sparked, the emptiness returned.

"This was supposed to be his job," Draco heard himself say.

"Hmm?" Granger had that look about her as though she, too, had been far away, searching for shadows of Harry with her mind's eye.

"Defence. It was supposed to be him here. Not me."

Granger sank back into the cushions of his sofa, drew her wand, and stoked the fire a little. "Well, you know. He's Harry."

"Yes, and he practically taught this class fifth year."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You knew he'd be out there, Draco."

Draco prodded a place on the coffee table leg with his shoe where the wood had worn raw. He'd done that himself, kicking at it nightly until he'd gouged a chink and exposed the lighter flesh beneath the stained veneer. It had formerly been a piece that lived most of its days in the Manor attic, something his mother had found too pedestrian for even her most lived-in spaces. Draco had happily taken it off her hands. It was nice to have something from his family that didn't remind him of their war-time houseguest every instance he looked at it.

Staring at that spot, a memory overtook him suddenly and without warning: himself, naked from the waist down; Harry, naked from the waist up; the two of them tussling on the floor; insults and laughter that turned to hot sighs, an abortive grunt; shoving away that evolved to pulling each other closer… Harry sinking inside him, right there on the rug. Draco staring up at him, leg draped over Harry's tight, sinewy shoulder. Slow, powerful thrusts. Right there…

When Draco finally spoke, his voice came out rough, and he heard it as though disembodied, from another room inside himself, a weak Patronus. "I didn't know he'd be out there seven months." He swallowed thickly. "I didn't know he'd be undercover and I'd be unable to see him, unable to Owl, to touch—" Draco ran a hand through his hair, cleared his throat. "He could be anywhere. Fuck, Granger, he could be in Hogsmeade and I'd never know. Bloody Glamours and Disillusionment charms."

He stood abruptly and walked to their drinks cabinet, quivering hand going unerringly to the whiskey. He poured a finger into his tea and raised a brow at his companion, such that she was.

"Please." She held out her cup, and Draco gave a liberal dollop.

Draco attempted a lighter tone. "Careful now, Headmistress. I realise it's the weekend, but—"

"Bugger off." Granger smiled. It turned to a pensive sigh, to the thing neither of them could avoid. "He'll come home."

Draco sat once more, sipped his tea and stretched his legs out. He gave a properly desultory reply. "Yeah."

They talked into the evening. Trying for a valiant break in his worry, Draco asked after Pansy, even though she was his friend, too, and he'd had Owls from her, half of which talked almost solely of Granger. 

What must it be like to know your lover ran a shop in London, and the worst that might happen between her Floo and yours was a till adding up a few Sickles short?

Draco shook himself and asked after Granger's spawn. She informed him that Weasley had the both of them while he was on hiatus from Quidditch practice. Draco made a sound of wan interest, but his mind had already conjured Harry in flight despite him. Mother of Merlin, he could have flown, for fuck's sake. Any team would have had him as its Seeker.

Granger's yawn disrupted his thoughts. "I'm not one for whiskey anymore," she said. As if she'd ever been one for whiskey. She stood and cracked her back.

"I'll see you out," Draco said, but as he leaned forward to stand, she passed his chair and laid a warm hand on his shoulder. For a moment, he felt so utterly comforted; he nearly rested his cheek against the back of her wrist. 

"Don't bother, Draco," she said. She patted him and walked to the door. She opened it. "He'll come home. You'll see. We both will."

With that, she stepped out and snicked the door closed behind her. 

Draco reset his regular wards. Maybe he'd do new ones tomorrow. Then again, maybe some small part of him didn't want to bar her entrance. 

The radiating heat of her hand paled and disappeared altogether. Draco poured the last of his tea down his throat and set the cup down with a clatter. He stood and slowly walked to the window. He never closed the drapes anymore – never obstructed the view of an approaching owl.

Draco leaned against the frame and crossed his arms over his chest. He watched a Thestral soar in the distance, its sooty skin gone pitch against a bright moon. He leaned his temple against a cold pane of glass and watched his own breath's warm fog obliterate the night, one exhale after another.

*

The Owl had come while he'd been donning his pyjamas. Same shite, different day. All was well.

Draco had fallen into a fitful sleep well after midnight, the latest missive having joined the two hundred eleven others in the bedside table drawer such that they spilled and stuck out as though they were attempting an escape.

It must have been close to dawn when Draco was startled awake by a rattle.

"No!" he gasped, sitting bolt upright in the bed and panting before he blinked and the room came into focus. He slumped as the dream subsided.

The rattle came again.

"No," Draco whispered this time.

He cast a Tempus charm. No good could come from an owl at four in the morning.

Draco scrambled out of bed, throwing on his dressing robe and fighting with the sleeve. He stumbled over a pair of Harry's boots he hadn't had the heart to put away and cursed, his big toe smarting awfully as he limped into the sitting room and over to the closed window where no owl perched and the grey dawn had yet to show any colour.

Draco exhaled. "Fuck." The relief flooding through him felt almost nauseating. Because it wasn't truly relief. It was but a moment's reprieve before the anguish began anew. 

Draco sighed and scrubbed at his face with a hand, trying to decide if it was worth it to trudge back to bed or if he'd just make a pot of extra strong Darjeeling, when a voice came from across the room. "I forgot the bloody lock charm. Can you believe that? It took me three tries."

Draco whirled. All his breath left him, and it felt like it would take an eternity to cross the space to him, even if Draco ran. Which he did.

"Bloody hell, I woke you," Harry said. "I had really great plans about how I was going to wake you, damn it. I—"

The force of Draco slamming into him pushed Harry's back against the door. "Fuck you," Draco breathed into his neck, even as Harry's arms came around him hard, hands gripping Draco's body strong enough to bruise.

A hot tear slid down Draco's cheek. "Oh my god, fuck you."

Harry exhaled into Draco's hair. They stumbled into a sway and then steadied once more. Even holding Draco to his body with all his strength, Draco felt Harry's utter calm – the easy, inevitable pounding of his heart against Draco's chest.

Draco pulled back to see his face, the unruly shrubbery that was his lover's hair. "If you take the piss about me crying, Potter, I'll—"

But Harry had already kissed him – was already opening Draco's salty lips and deepening it. All of Draco's fears melted off his body and pooled at his feet like a cloak no longer needed under a spring sun. Harry poured himself into all of Draco's empty spaces. Draco's skin prickled where the wool of Harry's robes rubbed through thin cotton.

Draco sighed into his mouth, and Harry turned them, pressing Draco's back against the door. They kissed, long and hot and slow, and Draco felt one of Harry's hands reaching about his own neck for Draco's arm. He took it, breaking the kiss only for his lips to land on Draco's forearm, leaving lip prints over faded ink – only for his hand to seek Draco's in order to interlace their fingers. Harry didn't say anything. He just breathed, deep and shuddering. He throbbed with the sentiment if not the actual words.

"I was going to blow you," is what actually came out of Harry's mouth.

Draco snorted into a laugh. He would have liked to simply raise a brow and offer a rejoinder, but his walls were utterly dismantled. Beyond that, they were wrecked. He squeezed Harry's hand, and Harry answered with a thumb brushing over Draco's.

"Just pretend I said something witty here, all right? 'What's stopping you?' or something to that effect."

Harry smiled at him, and the room warmed.

"You're all right," Draco said. "Are you all right?"

The smile faltered, and shadows chased themselves over Harry's eyes. Draco cupped his cheek, suddenly seeing an old yellowing bruise there and the ghost of a healed gash. 

"I am now."

Draco nodded. Their hands slipped over one another, and then Harry wrapped Draco tightly in his arms again.

"Did you have plans? Because I don't think I can let go of you."

Draco smirked at him. "I have plans all right."

"Oh, there it is." Harry smiled wider at the return of Draco's ability to banter, even though it was hopelessly hackneyed and they both knew it. "You can tell me all about those plans while I fuck you." Harry hauled Draco to him so hard, his toes skimmed the ground. 

"Here?" Draco asked.

Harry groaned. "Bed."

"You'll fall asleep in the bed." Draco couldn't stop himself kissing Harry once more, and Harry closed his teeth gently on Draco's bottom lip, making him shudder with pleasure.

"I'll fall asleep inside you," Harry whispered.

"After, right?" Draco smiled.

"I'm not making any promises, Malfoy."

Draco saw the wary darkness still swimming in Harry's eyes, fighting exhaustedly with something like joy.

"Let's go then," Draco whispered.

Harry started to tug him toward the bedroom, but Draco resisted.

"Wait, wait… Granger. She needs to know you're safe. Do you have it in you to send your Patronus?"

Harry's gaze warmed and skated over Draco's face. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Draco's. Harry slipped his tongue into Draco's mouth, and Draco felt him draw his wand. He couldn't help a small whimper. Harry's magic gathered, and Draco felt it move over his skin, beneath it to his blood. Harry was everywhere, sparkling and alive. The silver-blue of the stag erupted against Draco's closed eyelids, and he sensed it galloping soundlessly from the room. Then Harry's wand clattered to the ground, his arm came around Draco, and there was nothing else to feel but warm.

 

~End

 

Lyrics:

I go nowhere high  
Go nowhere warm  
Until I see your smile and feel your calm  
And I lick a dime  
I crave for you boy  
You're like a parachute descending from the sky  
And I'm sure you're on your way  
Yes I'm sure you're on the road  
I go nowhere high  
Go nowhere warm  
Until you're by my side  
Your hand in mine  
And I've always known  
You're like a feather  
You go where wind and fire melt together  
And I'm sure you're on your way  
Yes I'm sure you're on the road  
And I'm sure you're faster than before  
Yes I know you're somewhere on the road  
I reckon there is nothing more to say


End file.
